


Caught in the Crossfire

by unrequited_heartbreak



Series: a collection of chapter 1's [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Major Character Injury, Superpowers, Supervillains, it'll get better later i promise, think of this as a prologue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrequited_heartbreak/pseuds/unrequited_heartbreak
Summary: Set in a world where accidents that grant you superpowers are about as common as green eyes, Tommy struggles to grapple with the fact that his best friend is secretly a superhero while also trying to grapple with a deadly chunk of metal.Oh, and a bunch of other minecraft youtubers are also there.And they also have superpowers.This is a Superhero AU.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: a collection of chapter 1's [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008417
Comments: 11
Kudos: 86





	Caught in the Crossfire

**Author's Note:**

> This is somewhat of an prologue to a longer, more complex story that I have planned! I figured posting it would motivate me to finish up the first few chapters quicker, but we'll see how it goes. I might update soon, I might update a few months from now—for now, I humbly offer this.
> 
> Hope you like it! :DD

“Toby—stop, please, just  _ stop _ .”

Tommy’s hand shoots out to clasp his wrist, painfully tight. The color of the suit had hidden the blood, but now his palm is slick with it. He doesn’t cringe. He wants to. His eyes are pleading.

“I can’t,” Tubbo breaks their eye contact, voice terrified under a cracking layer of confidence. “I can’t stop now, I can’t let him win. I’m sorry.”

“But you can, just turn around and—I can’t lose you. I don’t know what I’d do and—god, just—“ His eyes are blurry, from smoke or tears or pain he doesn’t know. His shaking hand snakes up to wipe them. The pavement is uncomfortably warm; even through the soles of his shoes he can feel it. Rubble hisses and putters around them, painting their faces with golden light and smudges of soot. 

He knows this street. They’re a few yards from their old middle school, now- it's barely recognizable. Another pang of fear shoots through Tommy’s chest as he glances over at the wreckage. How long will it take to repair? How many people have died?

“This is my job, I can’t let him get away with—with everything. It’s not fair to everyone, I can’t be selfish,” Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen this look in Tubbo’s eyes, dark and angry, worryingly determined. His grip might be the only thing keeping him from flinging himself into the fray again. There’s a dark, dark bruise forming on his chin, almost blending in with the dried blood and ash smudged across his face. If he squints, he can see the same Tubbo that he walked to school with a few days ago but now—he seems so different. Older, maybe.

“Why not? You’re 16, you didn’t ask for  _ any _ of this. A couple of assholes with high tech suits showed up and told you to risk your life one day and now you’re a bad person if you don’t? That’s fucking— _ bullshit _ , it's bullshit!” He’s properly crying now, he thinks. Fuck. Goddamn it, now is definitely not the time.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I’m terrified, but I know this is the right thing to do. You know it too,” He doesn’t know it too, and his grip tightens, “just let me go. I’m sorry. I’ll—“ 

A wave of hot air hits the back of Tommy’s neck. There’s a loud, high pitched screech of metal against asphalt, and a car alarm goes off. By the time he processes the look in Tubbo’s eyes, eyes that are trained just above his head, eyes with dark circles under them and damp eyelashes, he’s thrown to the side. 

The breath is knocked out of him in one fell swoop. He scrambles to orient himself, looking wildly for a flash of red and a mop of brown hair and—

Oh god. Something tugs at his gag reflex and the spot behind his eyes that stings when tears fall. 

There’s a body slumped against a pile of metal and bricks, barely visible through a gap in the rubble, pitifully small. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

He pushes up from his twisted, half sitting position and ignores the aches that scream in every joint. Something has to be broken, there’s no way there isn’t something broken. There’s blood coming from somewhere—it’s painting the concrete behind him as he twists and turns past the carnage. 

A hunk of metal is sitting right where they had been standing; a few minivans crushed like soda cans and smushed together. They’re red hot, every plastic bit has melted away and it leaves a faint chemical taste in his mouth. He could’ve been—Tubbo _ was— _

A sharp, wheezing laugh winds through the maze to reach Tommy and he stops dead in his tracks. Tubbo is still vulnerable, out in the open—and Tommy is just a stupid kid, there’s no way he can do anything. But he can’t let himself die. He can’t let Tubbo die. 

He chokes out a sob before he can stop himself, the pain in his leg and ribs finally catching up in the stillness. What is he supposed to do? What would Technoblade do? Where is he, anyways, the world has fallen apart and—are the other heroes even still alive? They’re all fucked if they’re dead. God, they’re so incredibly fucked if they’re dead.

The ground is burning his hands. When did he fall? His chest hurts, there’s something wet on his leg. He wants to go home. The laughter is getting closer. 

“Aww, here’s his little friend! This isn’t a field trip, Tubbo, you don’t need to use the buddy system,” His voice is light and amused, almost unhinged. Tommy can’t see his eyes behind the mask but he knows they must be crinkled, pulled up by amusedly raised eyebrows, trained on him like a hawk’s. 

Dream is standing right in front of him, and he’s not dead yet. 

This feels like a win.

But it’s also making his skin crawl. And his body still hurts like a  _ bitch _ . 

“I heard your chat earlier, before your friend got taken out by a stray car. Or four. Anyways, something stuck out to me, Tommy—you don’t seem too fond of the hero system.” Dream flicks a bit of ash off his shoulder as he speaks, his passive hand relaxed in his hoodie pocket. He’s aggressively casual. 

“I...” Tommy says eloquently, and Dream laughs.

“I’m not too fond of it either, if that’s not obvious. You’re right—it gets innocent people wrapped up in fights that they shouldn’t be fighting in. How many little kids dream of being heroes when they grow up? Imagine if they all got to be.”

It’s a little hypocritical to talk about innocent people getting wrapped up in things they shouldn’t be involved in, Tommy thinks, as he glances past Dream’s shoulder to the billowing clouds of smoke that line the horizon, but he keeps his mouth shut. 

“Imagine all those deaths. You know firsthand how painful it is to watch your super-powered friend get hurt, right? What if you could stop heroes from recruiting them?” Dream nods over at Tubbo, just barely, a flick of his head. Tommy wants to slap that stupid mask off his face. But he’s... no. No. He’s not gonna fall for this. 

“Look at him, Tommy. You could stop that.”

He can barely see through the smoke and the tears, but Dream’s point gets across anyways. 

“You’re such a fucking bastard.” Tommy hisses, spitting the last word like venom. He barely manages to get it out. The heat is overbearing, Dream’s words stir things in him that he very much doesn’t want to be stirred, and all of a sudden he’s sick of it. Why is he a pawn to be tossed back and forth between heroes and villains? 

Dream laughs again, leans back, before tilting his head so his ear is facing Tommy. 

“Oh? Tell me how.”

Tommy opens his mouth, expletives at the ready, but Dream is speaking again already.

“How am I worse than Technoblade, who let an entire bus of people fall to their deaths last year. Or Wilbur Soot, who let a villain into a hero charity gala on accident, and cost 21 children their lives during his grand debut. Or Skeppy, who slacked off on the job and let his fellow hero be kidnapped, never to be seen again.” There’s an edge to Dream’s voice, something between disgust and anger, “At least we have a cause that we’re fighting for. At least we’re honest. Can you say that much for them?”

Tommy gapes up at him. He glances over to Tubbo, still unmoving, and then down at himself. Blood is sticky on his legs, shirt, hands; even the pavement is coated in this stuff. It hurts so, so much. Sweat and tears and grime flow from his brow down to his chin, but his arms are too heavy to wipe it away. This isn’t  _ fair. _ Why does he have to be involved in all this bullshit? He just wants things to be normal. He should be doing his English homework right now, but instead he’s struggling to breathe with probably-broken ribs, staring up at a  _ supervillain,  _ trying to make a choice despite the pounding of his head.

A cloud of neon yellow smoke drifts out of a shattered shop window on the left side of the street, and Tommy thinks maybe things won’t be normal for a long time.

“Will you make sure he’s safe?”

“What?” Dream had turned slightly to say something into his earpiece, but he turns around at the sound of Tommy’s voice.

“Will you make sure that To- Tubbo is safe. If I- uh, if I go with you.”

Dream is silent for a moment, body language unreadable. Tommy shifts, trying to stop his bare skin from touching the hot asphalt.

“Are you agreeing?”

“I don’t think I have a choice, big man. I go with you or me and him both die here.” A nearby pile of metal lets out a wave of heat and sparks as something within it explodes, and Tommy winces. “Just let the heroes take him to the hospital. Please.”

Dream looks over to where Tubbo lays, weighing his options. He sighs. In the distance, a couple of figures are barely visible through the smog. 

“Alright. George and Sapnap are on their way right now, they said the heroes are heading in this direction. We’ll leave him here and take you with us.” Dream says, pushing more buttons on his watch, “You made the right choice, Tommy.”

Tommy breathes a sigh of relief. His head is throbbing, his chest is throbbing, his legs are throbbing. Unconsciousness tugs at the base of his skull. He watches Dream greet two people he can’t make out, and as the world fades out, he only has one thought.

His mum is going to fucking kill him.


End file.
